by Jack Wallen
The anger took control. I grabbed the music stand in front of me and hurled it across the room with a bestial roar. My pulse rose to match the tempo in my headphones, but my voice had gone silent. As I stood, motionless, breath gasping into my lungs, everything around me pulsed—the walls wavering as fingers of heat licked at the surrounding air.
A shape peeled from the wall opposite me, one that was all too familiar. The hair, the lips, the catsuit.
Grog, my own voice spoke my name from a mouth that was assuredly not mine.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
You already know the answer to that question.
“Are you him?”
I am not.
“How can you possibly know—”
The ghost Grog cut me off short. Because I am you.
The wail that issued from my mouth would have impressed Rob Halford. As I unleashed my inner Rock God, the flesh of the doppelgänger baked and flaked from the monstrosity, to reveal a leather-fleshed, bone-thin lich of a woman. The beast held its arms out in a crucifixion pose and laughed. I am you, Georgina Lisee, your flesh made spirit. Your sorrow and anger gave birth to that which you now behold. I am whole and, together, we shall burn this God-forsaken world to ash.
The ground beneath my feet shuddered, nearly toppling me. I screamed out to the creature, “You have no idea who you are fucking with!”
The incorporeal incarnation of hate grinned wide. Oh, but I do. I know every single inch of you and all your deepest secrets and weaknesses. Should you deign to fight me, know that I will win.
Once again, the world shook violently—only this time, it did so while shouting my name.
I snapped out of the reverie to find Drew shaking me by the arms. The second my eyes registered sentience, Drew pulled me in for a beast of a hug.
“Fuck,” Drew hissed. “Are you okay? You had me worried sick.”
The room was bereft of my evil twin. Where she’d gone, I could not say; the only saving grace was that I could feel the hole she’d left behind—the thing was gone. Or so it seemed.
I returned the hug and whispered in Drew’s ear, “Care to tell me what the hell just happened?”
Drew released me and looked toward Dizzy. “Did you catch all of that?”
Dizzy nodded and set about to prep the camera for playback. He folded the LCD screen out so both Drew and I could watch. On the tiny window, something clearly was wrong. I sang up to the first chorus and fell into what looked like a trance-like state; my arms hanging uselessly at my sides and my eyes glazed over as if their light had been totally extinguished.
“No,” I mumbled to Drew. “That’s not right. I remember singing through the first chorus and then…” My voice grew hauntingly silent.
Drew placed a loving arm around my waist. “What do you remember, Grog?”
“Hell,” I whispered. “I remember Hell and my dead twin sister.”
“What are you talking about, girl? You never mentioned anything about losing a twin sister to me.”
I turned to face the other half of Die So Fluid. “She’s not lost; I found her. Or, rather, she found me.”
Drew guided me out of the vocal booth and into the hall. After a quick glance over my shoulder, he shut the door behind us and addressed me with his most stern look. “Grog, what are you not telling me about this?”
“Nothing, I swear. I began hearing this voice a few days ago, during which it started calling me sister and filling my head with every kind of wicked bullshit it could conjure. It’s all lies, Drew. Besides, I think my little tantrum scared it off.”
“What do you mean?”
I placed a palm over my heart, felt its tick and tock slowing, and said, “She’s no longer in here.”
“She?”
“It, Drew; it is no longer here.”
We stared into one another, searching for answers to unasked questions. After what seemed like hours of deep soul diving, Drew finally nodded. “Fine. But if I see signs of exorcist-level shenanigans, I’m going to pull the plug on the session. You think you can get through the song without going all Aggro Grog?”
We shared an uncomplicated laugh, which had the effect of returning everything back to the status quo. Drew pointed toward the door. “Get your ass back in there and kick the shit out of that track.”
After a quick kiss on the cheek, I vanished back into the room. Dizzy and Bella remained, their eyes widened with the slightest bit of fear. I had to do something to ease their concern.
“Have you ever wanted something to be absolutely perfect, only to find yourself falling short? That’s what happened there. I lost my shit and that’s not cool. I’m very sorry to you both. It won’t happen again.”
Dizzy was the first to respond. “I get it. I’ve tossed plenty of tantrums when I couldn’t seem to get the camera to frame a shot exactly as it appeared in my mind. It’s infuriating.”
Bella laughed. “I don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to toss a chair at an interview subject, because their answers were either too pat or too shallow. It always served as a reminder of how intellect has become this stigma for the elite to carry around. It’s all such bullshit. Knowledge is the purest power.”
Dizzy added, “I’m glad you’re honest about it. So many artists hide their truth. Artists are not above and beyond human—they have emotions and experience them on a profoundly deep level. I say, get pissed and let it out.”
I was never one to indulge the tortured artist stereotype. My gig had always been grounded honesty; this was nothing more than a hiccup in my jam.
Or so I hoped.
“You ready?” Tony’s voice sang out over the monitors.
I grabbed up my music stand, situated it under the mic, turned to the window, and offered a thumbs-up. The click track counted me down before Drew played me back to my own personal nirvana.
This time through the song, everything came together exactly as it should; music and passion were my most perfect fashion and, in the end, ‘No More Stars’ was ready for mixing. Drew burst through the door, hands up high, ready for slapping. Our palms met with a crack. Drew scooped me off my feet and shouted, “All hail the queen of rock!” He spun me around; I caught sight of the camera’s lens recording all for posterity. As I went ’round for another spin, I tossed a pair of devil horns toward Dizzy and Bella, both of whom returned the salute with cheeky grins.
All the while, there was no sign of dear ol’ sis.
FIVE
Baby you’re a hard nut to crack I got a hammer so people stand back
I know you come with tears and germs like every other can of worms.
We celebrated a bit too hard after the session. I was trying like hell to not abuse my instrument, considering how many songs were left to record, but a bit of stress relief was in order. We holed up in a shitty dive bar to avoid the usual crowds of the city. I had to play bad cop and make Dizzy leave the camera in his bag. The last thing we needed was for some drunken half-wit going toxic over having his image on film. Besides, work had to, at some point, take a back seat to play.
All work and such.
“Pool, anyone?” Drew gulped down his third beer and nodded toward a now-empty table.
Dizzy nodded with a grin. “Hell yeah, playah.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You have no idea what you just got yourself into. If I were you, I’d refuse any bets this man makes.”
“Why’s that?” Dizzy inquired.
I sang the “Jaws” leitmotif. The all-too-familiar minor second interval brought a laugh from the group.
Bella’s sweet voice broke through the laughter. “Are you saying—”
I cut the girl off short. “That Drew’s a shark. Why, yes, I am saying just that.”
Bella nodded. “Finally, someone can give my boy Dizz a bit of competition.”
“What are you saying?” Drew asked.
“Rack ‘em and find out.” Dizzy patted Drew on the back with a flat palm. He grabbed a cue from
the wall and immediately began to powder the tip like a pro.
“Oh, hell yeah, it’s on,” Drew cried out in his best rock star voice—which was epically thunderous.
Drew began the process of racking the balls, while Bella and I took up our spots along the wall to watch the boys play. We knowingly clinked bottles together, happy to be able to sit on the sidelines and just watch the testosterone-fest unfold.
This was exactly what I needed. That and an extra-long yoga session, first thing in the morning. For the time being, however, I was where I should be—a dimly lit bar, watching one of my dearest friends playing pool, while a momentary blanket of internal silence brought a level of peace to me I hadn’t felt in some time.
A semblance of normalcy had returned to my life; it had been so long.
While Drew and Dizzy went ’round and ‘round on the aging green felt, Bella and I exchanged enough small talk to stem the tide of time. Truth be told, the girl had grown on me enough that I was beginning to consider her a friend. Sure, she was a bit young for my usual circle of acquaintances, but life was too short to deny kinship when it manifested so naturally.
Bella leaned into me. “He’s hot.”
“He’s what?” I shouted over the too-loud, run-of-the-mill frat rock.
“Hot,” Bella replied.
I pointed toward Dizzy. “I thought the two of you…”
“Dizz plays for the other team.”
“The what?” I questioned.
“He’s gay.”
“Gotcha.”
This was going to swell Drew’s head to bursting. The guy had a hell of a moral compass and zero interest in fooling around with someone young enough to be his daughter. Even so, a young hottie tripping over her tongue for him would boost his morale in ways nothing else could.
I was so going to enjoy watching this play out.
Or maybe I should head it off at the pass, so to avoid anyone getting hurt or have to do the hurting.
“Hey, babe,” a rumbling deep voice rang out from behind me.
I turned to see a pop-collared bro, beer dangling from two fingers, undressing me with his eyes and bouncing his head to the pedestrian tune. Instead of responding vocally, I nodded and returned my attention to the game.
“I said … ‘Hey, babe.’” The stranger returned to the scene of his original crime. “Why don’t the two of us…”
Go time.
I spun in my seat and, prior to turning the man down as gently as I could, offered up a polite smile. “I’m sorry, random guy, I’m with my mates.”
The stranger’s mouth lit up with a smarmy grin. “Fucking Brit. I dig it. Why don’t you come back to my place and help me knock one off my bucket list?”
Gently left the building. I stood up and leaned into the man. Before I could unleash my inner badass, Drew’s voice brought a stop to any possible forward motion from fist or foot.
“Do I need to take care of this bloke for you, luv?”
Pop Collar burst out in an exaggerated manly laugh. “Oh, fuck if you will, nancy boy. What are you going to do, stuff a scone in my mouth—”
Before the man could finish the insult, something knocked him back hard enough to send his head careening against a nearby wall. Drew glanced my way and I his.
“What the fuck just happened, Grog?”
I looked to my cohort. “I was about to ask you—”
A family that stays together…
The voice of my nameless twin returned. This time, however, the sound didn’t emanate from within. I grabbed a handful of Drew’s shirt and asked through clenched teeth, “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“The voice,” I growled.
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
Dizzy and Bella joined us, Dizzy making the first comment. “I’ve seen film stunts just like that, but never in analog life. That was fucked up.”
Would you like me to—
“No!” I shouted to the disembodied voice.
With that, Drew grabbed my arm and pulled me from the bar. Once we were outside, he twirled me to face him and addressed me without mercy. “I thought you said it was gone, Grog?”
Bella glanced between us. “What are you talking about, Drew?”
Dizzy approached, concern contorting his face. “We might want to get the hell out of this shit hole dodge. That douchebag is on the phone with the cops.”
“Oh hell,” Drew and I said simultaneously, before turning tail and racing off toward the car. I could hear the light slap of Bella’s Doc Martens close behind. A multi-layered comfort wound its way into the sound … one I really didn’t have the time to enjoy at the moment.
Once we were all piled into the vehicle, Drew punched the gas and rolled us away from a possible confrontation with the law that could not be explained away.
“Great,” Bella started. “Now will someone mind telling us what the fuck happened back there?”
“It’s complicated.” I did my best to brush aside the question.
“Well uncomplicate it. If Dizz and I are going to be involved with this, you need to be straight up with us.”
I turned to face the back seat. “When we return to my place, I’ll tell you everything. I promise, you won’t believe a goddamn word of it.”
Bella offered up a curt nod and relaxed back into her seat. I turned to face front again and released a deep, cleansing breath. Drew gave me a quick pat on the leg as if to say everything’ll be all right. He wasn’t Marley and nothing was even remotely close to right at the moment. To ease my mind, I flipped on the car radio to be greeted by the comforting sounds of BBC news radio. I leaned back and took in the voice of much-needed reason.
***
Back at the house, it was confession time. We sat Bella and Dizzy down and did our best to not wear a hole in the carpet from pacing. With an almost rambling quality, Drew and I filled the crew in on The Dark Seduction, Vau-eal, and my dead twin sister. While the tale unfolded, I was certain one of the newbies would have unleashed a cry of ‘bullshit.’ When that didn’t happen, my faith in both Bella and Dizzy grew by leaps and bounds.
When the spiel finished, I caught Bella clearly nudging Dizzy knowingly. They exchanged a few hushed whispers until Dizzy finally nodded and exclaimed, “I might be able to help you with this one.”
“Color this cat curious,” I responded.
“I paid my way through film school by working with…” Dizzy fell silent.
Bella gave the young man one final nudge. “Go ahead, Dizz, no judging here.”
The cameraman leaned forward, elbows resting on knees. “I worked with a crew of ghost—paranormal investigators. For the most part, it was nothing but a scam to try and score a television gig. They did, however, have some serious equipment … stuff that might enable us to help you with your problem.”
Drew unleashed a laugh that smacked of incredulity. “Sorry, mate, there’s no way we’re getting involved with that kind of trumped-up quackery. It’s bullshit at its best.”
“I agree. Most of the technology used on those shows is little more than smoke and mirrors to serve as a temporary distraction from the fact that there was never anything there. However, some of the hardware actually served a purpose. Lenses with super-fast glass that can record even the subtlest shifts in movement or color temperature. Audio software that could filter out almost imperceptible changes in the human voice. So yeah, given the right application, hardware does exist that could help out our cause.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Dizz.” Drew poured a glass of water and gulped as if he’d traversed a desert or two on an unnamed horse. “How do we procure this tech of which you speak?”
“We don’t. I do. It’ll take a couple of phone calls to some people who owe me big.”
All thoughts of solving this problem screeched to a halt. Any time someone owed another party big, bad mojo was exchanged; people wound up in jail or under a metric ton of dirt for the big nap good
bye. I hated to put the kibosh on Dizzy’s plan, but the last thing Drew or I needed was trouble. “Sorry, mate; we have to keep everything on the up and up.”
Dizzy hopped to his feet and waved frantic jazz hands between us. “No, no, no, no, no … nothing like that. Truth is, this one particular production company understands me keeping their secrets is in their best interests—if you know what I mean. To ensure that continues, I’m fairly certain I could pry away a few pieces of hardware for a while. Unfortunately, this technology is way too expensive for someone like me to purchase, so this’ll be our only hope.”
I faced Drew and shrugged. “You okay with that?”
Drew offered a succinct nod. “So long as it doesn’t draw all the wrong attention and could help rid Grog of this spiritual crone, I’m good.”
“I’ll make the necessary calls in the morning,” Dizzy leaned his head onto the back of the sofa. “I’m freaking exhausted.”
Bella gave Dizzy a quick pat on the leg. “Come on, Dizz. Let’s get you out of here and in a cab.”
“Tosh,” I called out. “It’s late. You two are welcome to stay here if you like. That couch folds out into a pretty comfy little bed big enough for you both.”
“You are an angel,” Dizzy moaned as he dropped his head into Bella’s lap.
Bella wriggled out from under Dizzy and pulled him off the couch. “Get up, lazy-ass. We have a bed to make.”
“I’ll get you some bedclothes and pillows.” I offered.
Drew laughed. “Sounds like the name of a really bad pop band.”
“Aren’t all pop bands really bad?” Dizzy asked.
I couldn’t wait for this answer. Drew had a few secrets up his sleeve, many of which would never see the light of day. I was fortunate enough to know them all; and pop group happened to be one of the more delectable on the list. Drew turned to face me, his cheeks a burning red. I blew him a kiss and then zippered my lips closed. Drew smiled, thankful his musical secret was safe with me.
